With My Dying Breath
by Vaughn's Jenn
Summary: ~:~ COMPLETE ~:~ Vaughn is about to lose the love of his life. Tear-jerker ~ S/V (dun-dun-dun music in the background) Vaughn POV Review like mad, people!!!
1. Alone

With My Dying Breath  
  
Chapter 1.  
  
I can't believe you're lying there so still. You hand is in mine but I can barely feel it and I'm pretty sure that you can't either. But the nurse outside the door said that you might be able to and I'm not going to miss a chance to have you know how much I miss you.  
  
If you could open your eyes and talk to me, I would be the happiest man on the earth. But I also want you to close your eyes forever; I hope that when you are sleeping, the pain won't reach you anymore.  
  
I read a book about this girl and her best friend is lying there on the bed, dying. And then when she dies, the only thing the girl can do is laugh. Not because she is happy but because she can't do anything else. It's not funny. No, it's not funny at all but she is in such denial that her body is rejecting everything it sees and hears. I always sympathized with that story and I felt bad for the girl but I never understand how someone could laugh at someone else's pain.  
  
But now I do. How ironic is this Sydney? How ironic is it that you, the woman who has faced all the hazards of life, are dying of something that millions of people die of every year? You save people's lives, you defend your own, and you can use and dismantle any weapon you come in contact with. But that couldn't help you here, could it? It doesn't make sense to me.  
  
How can I outlive you? You have always been the one who saved me. You brought me to life, your mere presence made it worth living. So how can you be dying now just as I've realized how much I need you by my side?  
  
You're only 29 years old, Sydney Bristow. Why are you leaving me? Your hand feels so limp in mind, it doesn't even seem like it belongs to you. Yes, I know it does and it is beautiful. It's amazing, Syd. After all you have gone through, your hands are still as exquisite and beautiful as they were the day I met you. But physicality doesn't matter to me anymore. You will always be beautiful to me.  
  
She's just lying there. Eyes closed. She looks peaceful and I am grateful for that. When she is awake, she still cares more about other people than herself and tries so hard to look happy. But I still see her pain. How can I not know the feelings of the person I love?  
  
And I think that's what hurts me the most. The Sydney I knew is leaving me. And not only physically. Every day, I see her vibrancy and love of life ebbing away. I see pain in her eyes more than I see light. Her voice has even turned duller. But even though she is changing before my eyes, I cannot let go and I find myself loving this new Sydney as well.  
  
It doesn't matter what she's looks like. She still has the same soul I fell in love with years ago. I hate my job. I hate our jobs. They kept us apart; kept us from even telling each other we loved each other. I'm pretty sure she loved me. I know I loved her with all my heart.  
  
The dull pain that always seems to be pounding away in my heart comes alive and is acute as I see her open her eyes. It's a slow movement; everything is difficult for Sydney now. The woman who could kick anybody's ass 2 years ago is now frail and weak. She finally fits into her petite frame. I sit down on the chair that I've been sitting on for the past few years.  
  
But today, there is a new development. Her eyes don't flicker when they meet mine. My heart sinks into an agony that I have never known. I think I would've felt like this had my father died a few years later than he did. When I was fully aware of what exactly had happened. But he had died when he died and left me facing her, full of a misery I didn't know. She didn't recognize me.  
  
Through all the months since she found out her condition, she had never failed to know who I was. No matter what state of deterioration her mind or body was in, she always knew me. Sometimes she would try to speak but I would hush her and then she would try to smile and mouth the words instead. Sometimes we would have entire conversations that way.  
  
She would ask me how life was and I would answer. She never wanted to talk about herself. I suppose it would've sounded weird to anyone listening outside the door. Me talking and then silence and then my voice coming out again. But it was the same as a telephone call, wasn't it? Our relationship had always been a telephone call.  
  
Anyone on my end would hear my responses, guess my feelings and do something or nothing depending on who they were to me. But they never heard the other side. They didn't hear the love Sydney put into every word she said to me like I could. It had happened maybe 6 months before she was diagnosed. The happiest six months of my life.  
  
And like the rising and falling of Fortune's Wheel, those 6 months were followed by 2 years of pain.  
  
In the beginning, it had been all right. She had still been the same person. Even though she got tired far more easily than before, the moments she was with me, she was still exactly the same. Full of spirit, full of wit, never afraid to look into a mirror or smile at me with full-blown dimples.  
  
It had been at the start of the second year that she started changing. It coincided with her looks I guess. Sydney had never been a vain woman and always seemed unaware of her beauty; I think it was more that she was afraid that she wouldn't recognize herself when she looked in a mirror. I don't blame her. So many things in her life have been so uncertain. The only thing she found constant throughout her whole life was herself. And when she didn't see herself in the mirror anymore, she panicked.  
  
She wanted the mirrors covered up. And then restricted visitors to her family, Will, Francie, and me. She didn't want to talk about herself anymore. It had become a painful subject. And sometimes, she even lacked the strength to mouth entire words. And sometimes, right when I was about to leave, she should mouth three more. But they were always partially shaped and unclear on purpose, as if she wasn't sure whether or not she wanted me to see them.  
  
I love her. I do. I just hate the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when she tells me she's too tired to talk to me anymore and sends me away. And the only feeling I hate more than that is the feeling I just got now.  
  
Sydney doesn't recognize me. Her eyes are traveling slowly across my face, her eyes look confused as if she's trying to remember who I am. Her forehead scrunches up in concentration and she doesn't say anything because she does understand that I am a good friend and she doesn't want to hurt me. She doesn't know that I know.  
  
Tears well up in her eyes because she truly can't place me. She looks down at our intertwined hands and looks hesitant, wondering whether she should keep her hand in mine. To me, she is my love. But to her, I am a stranger. She lets me hold her hand and for that I am infinitely grateful. But she turns her head away, either to try to remember me or to pretend she does know me.  
  
On the table at the other side of her bed are pictures. They are pictures of all of those that she loves. And then I see that she is trying to find a picture of me; trying to tell herself that she should know me and if only she can see us together, she will know who I am. I release her hand and walk over to the other side where the pictures are.  
  
Her eyes follow me quizzically and I pull a picture up from behind all the others. It is simple, she and I are standing side by side at the pier. It was taken about a month after she was diagnosed. When she decided to take pictures of everyone she cared for. But we look happy and it doesn't matter that in the picture we are not touching. You can see the chemistry just by looking at us. I'm not sure how other people can see it. After all, it's just a picture. But even nurses who don't know our history sometimes ask me if we're married.  
  
I take it as a compliment and tell them that I would be the luckiest man in the world to be married to her. But I'm not. And then I look at their faces, full of uncertainty at what they asked and heartbreak for my words, and ask them why they thought that.  
  
And they never mention my daily visits. They always suppose that because of the picture. Maybe it's because we are leaning slightly toward each other and the wind is blowing her hair towards me ever so slightly. Maybe it's our smiles or the fact that our hands on the rail are so close to touching that they might as well be. I look at the picture and then show it to her.  
  
I want to ask her if she remembers me now but I don't because I know she doesn't want me to know that she doesn't recognize me. But after seeing the picture, her eyes fill up with fear, confusion, sadness, and maybe a little hope and she gives up and decides to confess what I already know.  
  
Are we married? She mouths. Are you my husband?  
  
Tears come unexpectedly to my eyes. I knew that those questions were coming but I still hadn't been prepared for my response. I shake my head.  
  
She seems a little relieved; maybe she scared of the thought that she's forgotten someone that she loved. Or maybe she's just happy that she didn't have a husband to forget. But she also seems sorry. She has seen the tears in my eyes and how she knows that I love her and that she doesn't remember if she loves me.  
  
I can't stay here anymore. Much as I am happy that she is awake, I cannot control my own emotions anymore. I know that her pain is coming and that I should be there to support her but my legs can barely support me. I look at her and she nods, understanding the sorrow in my eyes.  
  
I walk out of the door and start crying before it closes. And then sounds come out of me. They're not feminine sobs or high-pitched cries but they are the noises of the misery in my heart that need to come out. People are looking at me but I am not concerned anymore. I think she can hear me inside her room. But I cannot stop myself.  
  
More tears than I knew I had come coursing down my cheeks as I breath deeply. I finally manage to stop these unfamiliar sounds from my throat and just lean against the wall. And I stare out at the emptiness that is about to become my life once she leaves me. 


	2. Shattered Dreams

Chapter 2  
  
And then I feel a hand on my shoulder, reassuring me, comforting me in my time of need. I look over my shoulder, expecting to see Will or Jack or even some kind-hearted nurse.  
  
A look of absolute shock covers my face as I see Sydney standing up behind me. I can't tell whether she is doing this because she recognizes me or because she is too kind to let me keep on crying because of her.  
  
Then I see the tears crawl out of the corners of her eyes and fall down the curve of her cheeks. "Oh Vaughn," She whispers, tears coming downwards to the point of her chin. "What's happening to me? I forgot you. I forgot you and I felt so alone. How could I forget you?" She was sobbing in earnest now and I protectively wrap my arms around her thin frame.  
  
"I don't blame you Sydney," I murmur softly into her ear. "You are- you're sick." I can't bring myself to say the words. How do I tell the love of my life that she is dying?  
  
I am certain she knows it too but I hang on to the childish hope that if I don't say it out loud, maybe it won't be true. Sydney shakes her head, still buried in my chest.  
  
"No, no Vaughn. I can't believe I did that. You were so hurt. I heard you and I have never heard anything like that in my life." She looked at me softly and opened her mouth to speak again but her words stuck in her throat and she started to shake ever so slightly.  
  
"Oh, Syd. How did you get out of bed? Here," I guide her over to the doorway but she is having trouble so I pick her up and take her all the way inside.  
  
She is so light. As light as a feather in my arms. I remember a time where she was solid muscle; though she still had the same shape, carrying her would have been like carrying a baby cow. I sobered at the thought that I might never hold her in my arms again.  
  
Sydney looked at me, eyes opening wide. She opened her mouth but I shushed her. "Sydney, please. Save your strength. You don't have to entertain me. I'm happy just being with you." I smile at her, hoping that it is in a reassuring way, and sit on the bed with her.  
  
For the first time since the year started, she shows her old defiance and shakes her head. She bends down so that her eyes are level with mine. Her sudden display of her old self sends shivers down my spine. I know that I said that I was in love with the new Sydney too but whenever she does this. . . whenever she shows me flashes of what she used to be. . . it affects me in a way that I never expect. I feel like she's already gone. But in that instant, she is before me again. She is ready to take charge and has found the stubbornness to say what she means to say.  
  
And I know better than to stand in her way. So I watch her. And the tears flow from her eyes once again.  
  
This time, I know it's something she has to go through alone, something that I can't help her with. And just waiting for her to start, watching how helpless she is breaks my heart.  
  
But then she looks up with the eyes of a tiger. Slowly but deliberately she begins to speak. And I am mesmerized by the sound of her voice for the next twenty minutes of my life.  
  
"Michael. I have found my voice and I don't know how long I have it so. . . I have something to say and I have to say it now before another day goes by. I know I'm dying- No, don't interrupt me. We both know its true. We both know it is. I know that you still want to keep holding on to your hope because of the wonderful person you are but I have to face the music. And I know that if I keep holding on to false wishes, I'll never get the strength to tell you what I have to say.  
  
"We both know that this isn't some kooky disease created by some mad scientist that we can get the antidote for by pushing in a couple buttons. This is cancer. And I have it. But I feel safe knowing that I also have you. Even when you think I don't know, I do. I know that you come everyday, that you talk to me and hold my hand and. . . -" Her voice broke as she wiped away a stray tear. "I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate it. And you. I admire you so much. I know that I can act like I'm better than everyone else sometimes but you always show me the kindness that I have always lacked in my life. I-I'm trying to say this beautifully Michael because I don't know if I will ever be able to say it again. I want you to remember what I'm telling you and I don't want this memory to be of my crying and not knowing what to say.  
  
"Because I do. I know exactly what to say. It's all in here." She touched her chest where her heart was. "I marvel at your endurance, your strength, your intelligence. I know that you want to interrupt me but don't. You want to compliment me back but it's my turn right now. Okay?  
  
"I look into your eyes and I see everything I have ever aspired to be." She paused.  
  
"And everything I've ever wanted to find. I know that you are -were- my handler and there were certain rules that we could never breach. But I want you to know that not a day has gone by in the last three years that I haven't wanted to. You were the light at the end of my tunnel and I hate myself for not finding you sooner. I was doing - we were both doing- what was expected of us and we both ignored the attraction we had for each other and we were good people and good agents who followed the rules. And I'm pretty sure that if I went back and had a chance to do it again, I would do the same thing. I guess it's only when you are this close to losing everything. . . I guess that's when you start to regret things-"  
  
I watched horrified as I saw my beloved Sydney break down in front of my eyes.  
  
"Oh Michael! I don't want to be alone. I'm so scared of being alone. I don't know what's going to be on the other side, I don't' know what to expect. All my life everything has been a certain way and even if I wasn't prepared, someone else always was and I had my family. . . and my friends. . . and I had you. I don't have anyone now Vaughn. I'm going somewhere I have never been before and I won't know anyone or anything. No one will be waiting for me or take my hand." Tears streamed from her eyes and I saw the terror radiating from them.  
  
"I just want to live. I know I'm whining but why did this happen to me? I was. . . smart. And I was healthy. . . and good at my job. I had friends and . . . I think I had love. And then it all changed. I just don't understand how this could've happened. How could I lose everything in a half an hour? All I want- " Sydney took a breath.  
  
"All I want is to grow old with you. Is that too much to ask?"  
  
My heart broke. Why couldn't this have happened earlier? I think about the time that we wasted, the feelings that we repressed and then I look at her now. . . I look at us now and I am sick to my stomach at what we see. I hold her in my embrace for a long time, wanting to remember forever how she feels in my arms. "No. No, it's not too much to ask. That's the only thing I've wanted for a while now. Oh Syd, there was so much we could've done. I know that what we did was technically right but it seems so unfair that we did what we did and then got these results."  
  
I am crying again, holding her against me. She looks up. She still has her hair. It's dull now and weak but it's hers and she treasures it. And I treasure her. Its mussed and her eyes are bleary. "Oh Vaughn. I know I should've told you this sooner. But I suppose it's better late than never. . . isn't it?"  
  
I nod but inside I'm still not entirely sure. Will I be able to handle what I was about to hear?  
  
"I used to have dreams sometimes. That we were married. And we had kids and a small and cozy house. That we had a dog and maybe a cat and a big beautiful garden. I dreamed that you called me 'babe' and I called you 'honey' and we loved each other so much that nothing bad would happen. And sometimes I would see us when we were ninety, rocking in rhythm in our rocking chairs as we watched our grandchildren playing. I just feel like I'm being robbed of a future with you. And then I forgot you. You were sitting there, just being there for me and I opened my eyes and I had no idea who you were.  
  
"And there was so much hurt. And so much pain that I didn't even know how to react. I knew that I was the cause of it. I knew that you loved me and I felt like I should love you back. And I think that deep in my heart somewhere, I did know. I think I knew from the moment I woke up and saw my hand in yours. You make me feel so safe. And then you knew. You knew that I didn't know but you still let me think that I was safe.  
  
"But when you showed me that picture, that's when I was sure I loved you. And I hated myself for not remembering. When you told me we weren't married, I wasn't sure how to react. I was happy because I didn't feel as guilty but I was also disappointed. I wanted to marry you, Michael. I wanted to live my life as Mrs. Vaughn. I guess all dreams have to be shattered at some point." 


	3. Life and Love

3.  
  
I have no idea what to say. How am I supposed to reassure her? I can't tell her that she won't be alone. I've never lied to her and I'm definitely not going to start now. And who am I to tell her that dreams won't get shattered? I'm definitely not one to talk.  
  
I feel like I'm living in a soap opera. Man is CIA agent. Man loves woman. Woman turns out to be CIA agent. Man and woman work together and fall in love. Man and woman cannot express their love. Woman gets cancer.  
  
And dies.  
  
Leaving the man alive, alone, and wishing he were dead too.  
  
There are no words. So I just hold her. And we stay like that for a while until my tears are dropping into her hair and hers are staining my shirt. And then she pulls away and wipes at her face. I see the look in her eyes. The pain is coming.  
  
"Syd, let me stay with you this time. Let me help you. I can support you I promise; I don't want you to be alone," I beg her to let me stay just this once. She's not being fair to herself by letting herself go through this all alone.  
  
But she shakes her head firmly, something I knew she was going to do. "No, Michael. Sometimes people have to be alone. And I don't want you to see me in pain. Besides, haven't you done enough for me already?" She tries to smile.  
  
No. I haven't done anything. I haven't even come close to doing anything for you. You're the one with cancer, you're the one whose lying there doing all you can to keep from writhing in pain, you're the one who can't remember the people who love her the most. . . what am I doing? I'm not doing anything. I'm a mere spectator and I've never felt more worthless in my life.  
  
"Sydney, you don't have to be alone you know." I try one last time. How could I not?  
  
She knows. She looks into my eyes and directly into my soul. Her tears are dry now; her eyes are steeled with determination. She won't let herself be weak in front of me. "I know. I know you want to stay. But don't. I want you to remember me as someone who was strong and able to anything. I don't want you to have. . . this as your last memory. It would hurt to much to think that you were feeling sorry for me."  
  
I nod. I'll leave. Again. I turn to go but then turn back to her and take her hand in mine again. "You are the strongest person I've ever known Sydney Bristow. And no matter what happens, nothing will ever change that. Everybody has to have a moment of weakness. That's what makes us human. And you should remember that you aren't Superman. You can't carry the entire world on your shoulders. Not all the time, anyway. So when you decide that you might need some support from the people who love you, remember that I'm just a phone call away."  
  
She nods, putting her head down so I can't see the tears reforming in her eyes. I walk out of the room and hear her whimper softly as I step out of the doorway. My step falters but I force myself to keep going. She wants to be alone. She needs to be alone.  
  
I walk out of the hospital and the air is fresh and warm and the only thing I can think about is the injustice that Sydney can't be here to share it with me. I feel guilty that I'm outside on such a beautiful day when she is cooped up in her hospital room.  
  
The shopping center looms out in front of me and I walk out there, hoping that I'll be able to think under the cover of window-shopping. I wish I could comfort her. I wish there was some way to let her know that she would never be alone. But I don't know how to ensure that. I've never died before.  
  
But if it feels much worse that this does, I don't know how I'll be able to handle it.  
  
And then my mind starts wandering and it's almost as if I am the one that's dying because I see my life with her flashing before my eyes. My amusement and shock when I first saw her in that red wig, face controlled though it had been obvious that she had been crying.  
  
My admiration when I learned of all she had gone through and the strength that she still possessed.  
  
My growing love for her intelligence, her beauty, her compassion. . . was there even an end to the list of her virtues? I couldn't find one.  
  
The unfulfilled promise of a date.  
  
I would take her place in a heartbeat. I know that for a fact. Doesn't that count for something? Shouldn't my faith and love for her be strong enough to defy death? Shouldn't my conviction somehow bring her back?  
  
And then I stop. And look at the window display in front of me. It's a sign. . . I'm almost sure of it. I don't know how I thought of it; I don't even recall thinking. It was just perfect; the easiest decision I had ever made in my life. If I did this, Sydney would never have to be alone. I would be with her.  
  
I walk into the store and wait for the clerk to notice me. Maybe she sees the sadness in my eyes or the gruffness in my voice but she asks if she can help me in almost a maternal fashion.  
  
Yes. You can help me. I point to the display. I want that one please. I'll pay with cash.  
  
She sees the urgency in my eyes, hears it in my voice and knows it's a matter of life and death. Or live and love. I can't even tell the difference anymore. But I get what I came in for and I feel a weight lift off my chest.  
  
There is something I can do for her after all.  
  
  
  
(review please- Jenn) 


	4. Making Decisions

4.  
  
I finger the object in my pocket, debating whether or not I'm doing the right thing. What the hell am I talking about? Of course I'm doing the right thing. I've never been more certain of anything in my life. My love for Sydney is something so powerful that. . . well though it won't stop her from dying, it will, in its own way, overcome death in the end. I will always be with her and that is the one stable thing in my life that is holding everything else together.  
  
When I close my eyes, I see her face. And it's the face that I have loved and lost; she doesn't have to be afraid that I'll forget what she used to be. How can anybody forget who Sydney was? Though it's hard to know and identify all the things that come together and make her who she is, I'm certain that once it all comes together, she is the only one that can fulfill them. She is the most amazing person I have ever known and I am not going to let her leave without letting her know how deeply I love with her.  
  
She won't be alone when she dies. If she dies. Though I know that the chance of her surviving is a slim one, and even if she does she will never be the same, I still cannot get myself to let go of her. My hope is big enough to sustain us both. But that doesn't change what I'm about to do.  
  
Whether or not she lives, nothing can change my mind anymore. Like I said, I have never been more certain of anything in my life.  
  
I'm walking down the street; it's so familiar now. I've come down this path for the past two years and I recognize every crack in the sidewalk, every patch of discoloration in the grass. If I look up, I will immediately be able to identify which window is hers.  
  
I walk through the double glass doors of the hospital and nod briefly at the nurse who, by now, recognizes my face. She also knows why I come everyday, who I come to see, and has thankfully stopped giving me appraising looks. I am not single. Even if I don't have Sydney, she has me.  
  
The elevator is familiar to me too. Everything is. I sometimes think I spend more time in this place than in my own home. I probably do.  
  
I am grateful that the CIA has allowed me to take a hiatus from my job without too many complaints. Though I think they let me more out of fear that I would sabotage the workplace than because they cared for my well- being. I push 13, the only number I've ever pushed in this godforsaken moving cubicle.  
  
And then I'm here. In front of her door. I hesitate for I minute when I peek in the mini-window and see that she is sleeping. Should I wake her? If I do, she might feel the pain again. But if I don't. . . I have to do this now. I might never have another chance. It's always better to be safe than sorry. And I would be so sorry if she was taken away from me before I told her everything.  
  
I am holding my item of purchase in my hand so tightly that I'm scared that I might've broken it. I don't even know how I managed to pay for it with cash. I don't usually carry so much on me. But then I remember. I had planned to stay at a hotel for a few days; my home held too many memories of Sydney even though she had never been inside. I had to get away. And leaving a paper trail is always risky.  
  
But if everything went to plan, my house wouldn't seem so utterly lonely anymore. I opened the door softly and poked my head in. I walked over to her bed and carefully placed a hand on her arm. I hope to God that she will recognize me this time. I need her to recognize me. "Sydney, wake up. I have to talk to you."  
  
Her eyes flutter open and focus on my face. She smiles weakly and I feel a relief so great that I sit on the bed next to her. "I'm sorry I woke you up." And I am. I am truly sorry for interrupting one of her moments of peace.  
  
"Vaughn, what are you doing here? Weren't you here like an hour ago?" Her eyes are inquisitive and worried. I nearly smile. She is worried about me. Why does she care for me so much? What have I done to earn her love?  
  
"I hadn't realized it had been an hour already. I was just walking around and I realized that there was something I had to do."  
  
"What?" Her voice was noticeably softer and I suddenly thought that maybe I was doing the wrong thing. But I pushed the thoughts away. I had to be strong.  
  
"I have to ask you something, Syd. You told me that you didn't want to be alone. . . that that was the reason why you were afraid to die. So I decided that the best way to remedy that is to make sure that you're not alone. I'm going to be with you wherever you go, Syd. And that's why I have to ask you this question."  
  
TBC.  
  
Review please~ 


	5. Question

5. Here's a couple lines so you guys don't forget what has happened:  
  
"Vaughn, what are you doing here? Weren't you here like an hour ago?" Her eyes are inquisitive and worried. I nearly smile. She is worried about me. Why does she care for me so much? What have I done to earn her love?  
  
"I hadn't realized it had been an hour already. I was just walking around and I realized that there was something I had to do."  
  
"What?" Her voice was noticeably softer and I suddenly thought that maybe I was doing the wrong thing. But I pushed the thoughts away. I had to be strong.  
  
"I have to ask you something, Syd. You told me that you didn't want to be alone. . . that that was the reason why you were afraid to die. So I decided that the best way to remedy that is to make sure that you're not alone. I'm going to be with you wherever you go, Syd. And that's why I have to ask you this question."  
  
I take a deep breath. "Sydney, you know that I care for you. That I never want to see you frightened or sad or alone. And I want you to know that the impact that you have had on my life is immeasurable. You have completed and made my life better in so many ways that it seems almost a sin not to let you know how much I love you. I hope that what I'm about to do will help alleviate your fright. I wanted to do something to let you know that I was always going to be with you, even if it is just in spirit. You mean way too much to me to just stand and do nothing."  
  
I think she knew right then what I was going to ask but couldn't say anything because she wasn't completely sure. Or maybe she was too shocked.  
  
I pulled out the velvet ring box from my pocket and opened it. Her eyes widen as she sees the ring inside. She's thrilled and, at least for the moment, she has forgotten her illness.  
  
"We may never have gone out on a single date, you may be more comfortable calling my by last name, and I may never have called you at night to tell you how much I love you. But I want to make up for all the flowers I didn't buy, all the chocolates I didn't give, and all the reservations I never made. We belong together, Sydney Bristow, and even if our time together might be short, I still want you to be mine. Will you please make me the luckiest man alive? Sydney, will you marry me?"  
  
Her eyes get even bigger. Even though she might've have anticipated this, she still hadn't prepared herself for the utter reality of the question. She is happy but her eyes fill with tears.  
  
"Why?" She croaks, "Why do you want to marry a woman like me? A woman dying from cancer?"  
  
I push my own tears aside. She is so much more than that. She has to know that she is so much more than that to me.  
  
"Sydney, you're not just a woman with cancer. You are my soul mate. So what if you happen to have cancer? Are you going to let that get in the way of how we feel about each other? I want to marry you Syd. I want to grow old as your husband."  
  
"Vaughn. . . I do love you. I love you so much. You have to know that. But. . . I can't cause you that much pain," The words are hard to get out. She wants so badly to say yes. I know it. I see it in her face that she wants to marry me too.  
  
"Pain?" I say incredulously, kissing her hand. "The only pain I'll feel is the voice in my head asking me why I didn't do this sooner! Trust me Sydney, there won't be any pain. Having you in my life. . . being able to introduce you to people as my WIFE. . . that would make me so proud."  
  
She looks down at her lap, softly shaking her head. "But what about when I die?" She whispers.  
  
I look at her. I can't speak. I have no idea how to respond to that question; I don't want to talk about what will happen to me when she dies.  
  
She looks up at me again, her eyes full of the fire that I love so much. "What about when I DIE? You. . . I might not be alone anymore but you will. And you will have lost me as a wife and not just someone you loved. . . and who loved you back. Won't it make things worse? Won't it be easier if we aren't attached?"  
  
My voice is gruff with sorrow. "Sydney, I can NOT imagine us being more attached than we already are. And if you die, no matter what you are to me, the grief will be the same. How could it be increased because of some legal term? How could I feel more sorrow if you were my wife? If you don't marry me, it will just mean that the grief will start earlier.  
  
"I will never be alone if I have the memory of us being together, even is it was just for a fraction of a second." I hope that she gets my point. I hope she stops trying to protect me.  
  
"Just once, I want to be the one to protect you, to make you feel safe. To make sure you know that I love you more than there are stars in the sky. It might sound corny but it's so true that it hurts. Please stop the hurt, Sydney. I know that you love me. Please.  
  
" Please, just marry me."  
  
"Oh, Vaughn," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Why are you so good? Why are you so good to me?"  
  
I wipe away a tear with my thumb and then bring my hand under her chin to lift her face and see her eyes.  
  
And then she nods and gives me her hand. And as I slip the ring on her finger, my grief goes away. And even though I know that it will come back soon enough, I know that I will cherish my last moments with Sydney. My fiancé. 


	6. Holding you

6.  
  
Last Chapter Lines:  
  
" Please, just marry me."  
  
"Oh, Vaughn," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Why are you so good? Why are you so good to me?"  
  
I wipe away a tear with my thumb and then bring my hand under her chin to lift her face and see her eyes.  
  
And then she nods and gives me her hand. And as I slip the ring on her finger, my grief goes away. And even though I know that it will come back soon enough, I know that I will cherish my last moments with Sydney. My fiancé.  
  
We just sit there like that for a while, her hand in mine, my eyes on her, a sad smile on her face. But I'm so happy that I feel like it should be illegal. I look up at her, smile deeply into her eyes and wait for her to say something.  
  
"We're doing the right thing right? I mean, we aren't going to regret this in the future? I want you to understand that if you ever regret asking me-" I place a hand softly over her mouth.  
  
"Sydney, did you not hear anything I said? I want to do this. No one forced me, no one guilted me into doing it. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you." As I say this phrase over and over softly, I find my face getting closer to hers. Her eyes widen and then she gives in and she lets me brush my lips against hers.  
  
It's only a touch but it's one that I can revel in. I have finally kissed Sydney Bristow. And somehow, it feels as if my life is complete. Holding her in my arms, singing her softly to sleep, seeing her face when I wake up. . . those will be the things I cherish. The memories that I will hold close to my heart. I kiss her eyelids closed and gently help her to lay back down on the bed. I smooth the few strands of hair that lie on her face and smile. Or try to smile.  
  
The tears have filled my eyes again. I know that she wanted to protect me from this. I know that now I will constantly be worried about her; more worried than I ever have been if that is even possible. Because now I am allowed to love her and I am allowed to spend my life thinking about her happiness and how much she means to me. And I realize that I have managed to withhold a part of my brain from Sydney Bristow. But now that I can think about her, I do. Incessantly. When she is gone, I will never be able to close that again. My grief will multiply. But I am willing to go through anything for one second of her love.  
  
Just to be with her makes every other goal and danger pale.  
  
I feel a soft touch at my face, her own finger brushing against my eyes and wiping the tears away. "I'm not in pain Vaughn. Don't worry. You are my medicine; you have made me the happiest woman ever to be alive and nothing can touch me now." She smiles softly at me and I am filled with love. And it's a love that I have never in my life known before.  
  
It's a love that makes me want to shelter, protect, cherish, pray for, make love to, have babies with, laugh with, cry with, cook with, live with, and die with Sydney Bristow.  
  
And I would not give that up for anything. I bend down and kiss her cheek, my eyes still moist. She is lovely.  
  
"Vaughn. Will you do something for me?"  
  
I look at her. "Of course Sydney, I'll do anything you want."  
  
"Just. . . hold me."  
  
I stand there for a minute, not knowing exactly how to manage that. I walk over to the other side of the bed and look at her. She's sleeping already, breathing softly. I could leave but I can't. She asked me to do something for her and it breaks my heart that I don't know how.  
  
Softly, I climb onto the bed with her, not knowing if this is allowed. I don't care. I lie next to her and wrap her in my arms. It feels right. Perfect. I was born to hold Sydney Bristow. And as I slightly tighten my grasp around her waist, I swear I see her lips curve into a smile.  
  
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	7. Love you Always

7.  
  
Last Chapter Lines:  
  
"Vaughn. Will you do something for me?"  
  
I look at her. "Of course Sydney, I'll do anything you want."  
  
"Just. . . hold me."  
  
I stand there for a minute, not knowing exactly how to manage that. I walk over to the other side of the bed and look at her. She's sleeping already, breathing softly. I could leave but I can't. She asked me to do something for her and it breaks my heart that I don't know how.  
  
Softly, I climb onto the bed with her, not knowing if this is allowed. I don't care. I lie next to her and wrap her in my arms. It feels right. Perfect. I was born to hold Sydney Bristow. And as I slightly tighten my grasp around her waist, I swear I see her lips curve into a smile.  
  
I had been planning on staying there for a few minutes but I ended up drifting away, lost in her scent and the feel of her body against mine. The machines around us hummed in an almost comforting way and I buried my head in her shoulder and closed my eyes too.  
  
We stayed in that position, sleeping together like that, for the next hour and a half. And I almost feel like she's completely healthy wrapped up in my arms like that. That maybe if I just hold her tightly enough and manage to forget everything, she will wake up brand new again.  
  
My last thought was of her. Of course. How could I think of anything else when Sydney is all around me? And then I fell asleep, drowning in the blackness that threatened to overcome my life.  
  
I felt a hand touch my shoulder hesitantly but with a subtle strength and I opened my eyes.  
  
"Hi Jack," I feel almost as if we're friends but the look in his eyes tells me that he might have changed his mind on that one.  
  
"What are you doing? Why are you on the bed with my daughter?" His face almost looks thunderous but not with rage. There is anger in his face but it is mixed with concern and questions and sadness. I do not blame him. He has lost everything. Everyone.  
  
I remove my arm from under her carefully, hoping that she won't wake up. "Can I talk to you outside?"  
  
He studies my for a moment, creases forming on his forehead, but then he nods and steps out of the room.  
  
"Sir, you have got to know by now that I have feelings for your daughter. And it's not silly infatuation that I will get over in time. This is the real, hard-hitting stuff. I love her more than I love anything in the world. I have sacrificed my job and my paycheck and my life to be with her everyday and you know what? I don't regret it. Being here, with her. . . it's the most amazing gift just to be in her presence." I look up at him, and for the first time I see him as a person. Not an officer or a stern father but just as he is. Suffering. A man who is losing his daughter in so many ways. Losing her to death, losing her to sickness. . . losing her to me.  
  
"Of course by now I have recognized that you have certain. . . attachments with my daughter. And I want you to know that I appreciate you sacrificing your time and energy to be with her. It does make her very happy to be surrounded by those who love her," He looks down at the floor, trying to put together all that he is saying. "But she is weak and though she does care for you, I do not think that it is your right to hold her like that. In her bed."  
  
"Jack, I understand where you're coming from and I have only one question." He looks up at me expectantly, sorrow clouding his eyes. "Are you aware that your daughter loves me back?"  
  
His mouth drops a little. "Did she say that to you?"  
  
"Yes." And despite the mixed expression on his face I feel jubilant. Sydney Bristow, woman of my dreams, love of my life, loves me. "Here Jack, sit down for a minute. I have to explain everything to you because you deserve that."  
  
He sat down, never losing his concentration.  
  
"I was with your daughter earlier today. Visiting her. And she was still asleep and looking so peaceful that I felt I could cry. We don't see her peaceful a lot these days. I took the liberty of taking her hand in mine and just. . . just talking to her." Jack nods. He understands what I do. He has often walked in on such occasions and, feeling as if he were interrupting some special moment, has backed out with dignity. He gave me my time. And for that I am grateful. "And then she woke up. And it was different from any other thing that has ever happened. She didn't recognize me. She looked and looked at my face but didn't see it. She looked down at our hands and wasn't sure of anything. She didn't know whether she should keep her hand in mine or take it away. She didn't know what we were to each other, she didn't know our relationship.  
  
"It was like I disappeared off the face of the earth. Because if I don't exist to her, then I just don't exist." A tear formed at the corner of my eye. But I will it to go away; this story does have a happy ending and I have to get there. I have Jack's unwavering attention.  
  
"I couldn't handle it. Suddenly not mattering anymore. I had visited this woman every day, held her hand, talked to her. She had never failed to recognize me before. And it felt as if my world collapsed. I couldn't take it anymore and I walked out of the room. And I couldn't stop myself from crying. And these. . . these horribly animalistic sounds kept coming from my throat. I couldn't stop them. It felt as if my heart were being ripped in two. I thought I was going to die Jack. I really could not find any reason to live.  
  
"But then she came out of the room. And she placed her hand on my shoulder and she knew me again. And she cried into my chest because she was so lost. She wasn't sure of herself anymore and that had been the only constant thing in her life. I carried her back to her bed and she talked to me. Not mouthing words but actually speaking. And hearing her voice filled me with such relief. But it was the words themselves that completely changed my life.  
  
"She told me that she was scared of dying. That it was the only thing she was truly scared of because she didn't know anything about it. She didn't know where she was going to be going and she didn't want to be alone. She was so so scared. And at that moment, I wanted to do anything for her, just to take away all her fears and doubts. I wanted to take her place or hold her hand. . . or anything.  
  
"So I did, I pulled her close and I held her in my arms and she felt like air. She was so light and thin and I was scared. But then she looked me in the eyes and. . . She hasn't changed, Jack. Inside, she is exactly the same. And she told me-  
  
"-She told me that all she wanted-" I gulped.  
  
"-was to grow old with me. With ME." As the words tumbled out of my mouth, I was once again filled with wonderment. I couldn't believe I was so lucky.  
  
"To be loved by her. . . Oh Jack, it is the most wonderful feeling in the world. But then she broke down, told be about her dreams of marrying me and having a family and how it would never come true. And then she told me loved me. Really told me so that I wouldn't have a doubt in my mind of what she was trying to say." I took a breath.  
  
"And then the pain came. And she still wouldn't let me stay, wouldn't let me support her. So I left.  
  
"And as I was walking, I saw this store. And inside the window, at the very center of the display, was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen in my life. The thinnest silver band with another curling silver wire threaded and embedded and moving all around it. And at the center of one side was a diamond so perfect that you almost couldn't see it. Even without it, the ring was beautiful. With it, it just enhanced the ring itself. And I found myself thinking that the ring was like us. Intricate, complicated, beautiful, and with something so wonderfully special about us that almost no one can see it but everyone can feel it. It was amazing.  
  
"And that's when I knew. That's when I found out how to get rid of Sydney's loneliness. I want to be with her wherever she goes. Even to death. At least in spirit. She has my heart; she knows that; but I still needed to show her somehow. So I put all the love I had in my heart into the ring-  
  
". . . and I proposed to her."  
  
Jack looked at me, unsure of what to say. He sympathized and understood. But the fact that his daughter loved me and that I had proposed within a day dumbfounded him.  
  
"She accepted, Jack. And then I kissed her. It was chaste, just a brushing of my lips against hers and yet it felt like my life was complete. I love your daughter Jack. I love her forever, I love her always, with my whole heart, with all my body, and with every particle in my being. I just. . . I love her.  
  
"And for the first time, it's fully returned. And she asked me to do a favor. How could I refuse anything she asks of me?  
  
"She asked me to hold her.  
  
" And I did."  
  
I stop. There is nothing else to tell. Except for the wildly racing emotions in my heart and mind, the story up till now is over.  
  
And his reaction is unlike anything I could have imagined. "Thank you."  
  
That's it. That's the only reply he has for me.  
  
"Thank you for making my daughter so happy."  
  
  
  
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	8. In the Circle of Your Arms

8.  
  
"Vaughn?" Her voice, though feeble is calling out to me and I cannot get to her side fast enough. I leave Jack in the corridor.  
  
She is not hurt; she is not sad; she is not lonely. She just wanted to be with me.  
  
"What is it sweetie?" I tuck her hair behind her ear and smile lovingly into her eyes. I can't believe that I'm finally allowed to do that. I can't believe that I am finally free to tell Sydney that I love her and that I will take care of her forever. That I don't need a reason to look into her eyes or to touch her face.  
  
She wraps her hands around mine and brings it to her lips and softly kisses it. "Tell me about us."  
  
For a moment I am confused, unsure of what she is asking. "Tell you about us? What do you mean?" I am scared, thinking that she has forgotten our history and, in the process, has forgotten our love.  
  
"Tell me about us. Our future together. Tell me everything. I want to soak it in, I want to know what's going to happen and revel in it. I want to see everything you say flash in front of my eyes. And when you are done, I want you to keep talking so that I can fall asleep to the sound of your voice."  
  
Her eyes are smiling at me and I have no choice but to smile back. I sit on the bed but Sydney motions for me to lay back down with her. "I want to be close to you when you say it. It feels more real."  
  
I lay next to her.  
  
Softly I stroke her face. "We are going to be so happy," I whisper to her. "We are going to have a beautiful and cozy house with a big garden and trees-"  
  
"And children," she supplies.  
  
"Of course. How could I forget our children?"  
  
"Because you always focus on their mother too much," she says to me grinning. "We'll have three. Two girls and a boy."  
  
"And the girls will look exactly like you and the boy with look like me."  
  
"Of course. And they will have my witty humor, your health, our intelligence, and our luck with love." She is smiling, so happy now and I cannot believe her frame of mind. Is she really so unbelievably selfless that she thinks that we are lucky? Yes, I know that we are lucky to have found each other and, in the process, our hearts. But the love I feel comes paired with an agony that is hard to move past.  
  
"Sure they will. And they will never fight with each other and every morning they will know that they live in a family that loves every one in it because I will kiss you and the kids good morning and good bye every day when I leave. And I'll always be home for dinner."  
  
"6:30 sharp."  
  
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."  
  
"Of course you wouldn't. I would make up a menu and rotate favorite dishes for everyone. No one would ever cry or get angry. Everything will be perfect."  
  
"And then our children will grow up, get good jobs, have happy families-"  
  
"And we will be together again." There is a touch of sadness at her voice at the thought of her children leaving her.  
  
"Is that such a bad thing?"  
  
"No, no of course not. It's one of the best things. I will still be in love with you when I'm a hundred and six, Michael Vaughn. I am giving you my promise. I will love you until the day I die. We will be rocking in our chairs together, hand in hand, watching old people channels on TV. We may complain about the young people and their young music and their young way of life but I will never really mean it. As long as you are with me, I can bear anything."  
  
I can't speak. She is so wonderful. We both know in our hearts that we are spinning fantasy but neither one of us wants to let go. We want to live in our words forever. We want to grow old together. I almost ask her to promise to live to be a hundred and six but I realize how childish that sounds and I close my mouth.  
  
"God Sydney, I love you so much. You know that don't you?"  
  
She smiles at me in her soft way and kisses my fingers. "Of course I do."  
  
I cup her cheek in my hand and watch as she slowly closes her eyes. "I suppose this is the time you were talking about. When you told me to just talk so you could hear my voice. I don't really have that many thoughts going on in my head though. I only know that I love you and that phrase just keeps going around and around. Wow. I just realized how much in love with life I am. You didn't see it but the sky was so blue today. And the birds were chirping and the air was so fresh and warm. I would've liked to walk out there with you. Just walk, your hand in mine as we discuss anything. Sit in the shade of a tree, pack a picnic and just talk. I just. . . I want another chance. With you. I know you're sleeping but I still can't seem to shut up. When you are with me or around me, I just feel so full of energy that I want to burst. And then when I'm alone, I'm so alone." I pause, not knowing what I am saying, why I am saying it. I look at her and see tears coming out of her eyes. She wasn't sleeping.  
  
"Syd, don't cry," I murmur, wiping the tear away.  
  
"Vaughn I can't do any of those things for you. I can't walk with you in the park or pack a picnic. I can't have kids, I can't live in a house, I can't garden, I can't move, I can't function, I can't think, I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to get married and I can't believe that I will never be able to do anything with you but kiss you. I don't have energy.  
  
" I don't have life."  
  
"You have me. No matter what, you will always have me." My heart is breaking but I try to look brave for her sake. I wipe the tears away from her eyes. "You know I can't stand to see you cry. I'll do anything to make you feel better. Come on, Sydney, the last time I saw you cry, I went out and bought an engagement ring. I don't have anything else to offer you. Please say that you don't want anything else. I don't know what I can do to make you feel better."  
  
She suddenly flings her arms around me and brings her forehead to my mine. Our tears mingle and drop together and we are so close that it is hard to tell where one of us ends and the other begins. Which is how it should be. "You don't have to give me anything else. You're right. I don't need anything. I have you. And that's all I need. I promise. I'm sorry."  
  
And we just stay like that for a while.  
  
  
  
(review~) 


	9. No More Regrets

9.  
  
I wake up to the sound of her voice. I can't believe I actually fell asleep. In her arms.  
  
"I'm not getting any better am I?"  
  
I'm instantly awake but I keep my eyes closed, sensing that she doesn't want me to hear this.  
  
"You condition is stable, Ms. Bristow."  
  
"Don't give me that crap. I may not be a doctor or some medical genius but I know enough to know that the fact that these dark spots are getting bigger is not a good thing." Her voice carried a passion that I had almost forgotten.  
  
The nurse swallowed and made little noises in her throat.  
  
"But if that is how you are progressing with the treatment. . . who knows how you will be if you leave?" The nurse's tone of voice took on a decisive wheedling quality.  
  
"I would rather die happy than die older."  
  
I ease my eyes open. I don't like this conversation. She is looking over me, the bottom of her hair just inches away from brushing my cheek. Her cheeks are flushed and for a minute I let myself squint and see her as she was two years ago. Radiant, full of life and passion, and willing to do anything to get her way. You could never say no to her when she was like that.  
  
Her hand rested on my shoulder. "Sydney, what are you doing?" I murmur. She looks down at me, surprise lighting in her eyes.  
  
"How long have you been awake?"  
  
"Only a minute or two. Sydney what are you doing?"  
  
She looks at me and bites her lip. "I-" She turns to the nurse. "Can I have a minute alone with him please?"  
  
The nurse leaves and I see that she is unsure whether to tell me to get off the bed or hold her peace. She decides on the latter and leaves, carrying the clipboard with her.  
  
Sydney redirects her attention towards me. "Vaughn. . . I'm not getting any better."  
  
"But the nurse is right. You might get worse if you stop the treatment. I can't take that chance. Why? What do you want to do?"  
  
"I told you. I'd rather die happy than die older. If I'm not going to get better, then why the hell should I stay here? You told me that the sky was the bluest that you have ever seen. That the air outside was warm and fresh. That you wanted to walk with me in the park. So? Let's do it."  
  
I raise my eyebrows, confused. "Do it?"  
  
"Yes. I want to leave. I want to live with you. I can get a special nurse to stay with me. Or something. Just think about it. You won't have to come everyday to the hospital to see me. You could take me places, we could do almost everything we said that we wanted." She looked at me, filled with such an enthusiasm that I couldn't bring myself to let her down.  
  
"Let's think about this a little."  
  
She was filled with urgency and brought her hands to the sides of my face. "Vaughn. You don't understand. I feel more alive than I have been the past year. I WANT to do this. I need to. I'm engaged to you. I want to feel like I am. People do it all the time. If I get worse, we can hire people to stay with me." She looked into my eyes, trying to elicit a response.  
  
I let my fingers run through her hair. "Syd. . . I don't know."  
  
"What's not to know? Nothing will change. Except that we'll be together. I'll be living with you. Look at me. Do you even remember seeing me this energized? I feel like I'm not even sick. Just at the thought of this. Please let me. Please."  
  
She's right. She makes perfect sense. And I really don't remember her looking this healthy. "All right. I'll arrange it. But you can change your mind any time you want and if you get worse. . . then you're coming back here. Okay?"  
  
She nodded. "You're wonderful." She leaned back on me and handed me the remote. I turned on the TV and just thought about how normal this seemed. To be lying in bed with Sydney, my arm around her as she lay next to me watching television. . . this is what life would be like. And I could definitely live with that.  
  
~::~  
  
I took Sydney's hand in mine and smiled softly as I felt her curls her fingers around mine and give me little squeeze. I walked slowly, taking in our surroundings. She looked at me and smiled before looking up at the sky and smelling the air. "It smells like cinnamon."  
  
I look at her and sniff the air too. "Kinda. . . if you think cinnamon smells like apples."  
  
"Apples don't smell like anything."  
  
"Of course they do. They smell like this."  
  
"No, this smells like cinnamon."  
  
"Maybe cinnamon apple."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
She grins and hugs my arm, pressing herself close to me. "I love you. . . let's have a picnic."  
  
"Now?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to come home first? You don't want to rest? We can picnic later."  
  
She turns and looks at me. "Are you so sure?"  
  
No. No I'm not. I'm just hoping. "All right, we'll picnic."  
  
"So why are we walking to the park? The grocery store is that way." She pulls me in the opposite direction and I laugh.  
  
We're walking together in public. People can see us. But it doesn't really matter anymore. Sydney was released from SD-6 when she was diagnosed and they had stopped checking on her shortly after then. She was already dead to them.  
  
We walk into the store and the air-conditioning causes Sydney to shiver a little. I wrap my jacket around her and place an arm around her waist. "I like feeling so protected," she whispers.  
  
"I like protecting you." And I do. There was a time when it was the other way around. But this feels right too. Interdependence. I grab a shopping basket and follow her lead.  
  
~::~  
  
"This is so beautiful, Vaughn." She sighs, taking it all in. We are sitting on a blanket in the shade of the elm towering over us. And it's a wonderful feeling.  
  
"Almost as beautiful as you." I kiss her cheek.  
  
She touches my forehead with hers and tangles her fingers in mine. "We're getting married. We really are getting married."  
  
I nod, smiling. She breaks away suddenly, laughing. "I am so happy. I can't believe I never noticed it before."  
  
"Noticed what?"  
  
"How much you love me. And how much I love you back." She stands up and spreads her arms out. "The breeze feels wonderful. Come here, stand next to me."  
  
Her voice sounds strong. Maybe all she needed was to get out of the hospital. Could she have remained like this if she had stayed at her house? I stand up. Her eyes are closed and there is a huge smile on her face. The wind blows my hair back too and I have to close my eyes too to fully feel every sensation going through my body.  
  
The breeze passes and I feel Sydney throw her arms around me. "I am so unbelievably happy." She kisses me then and I feel like I'm being crippled by the emotions that suddenly surge through my system. We are really kissing this time. She laughs. "I'm so happy."  
  
This was a great idea. This was an absolutely fantastic idea. My fantasies were becoming reality and Sydney was only getting stronger.  
  
She plops down on the blanket again and pulls me down with her. We are lying down on the blanket side by side, looking at the clouds. She points up into the sky. "That one looks like you," she says proudly.  
  
I look up. It's a big, fluffy cloud. "What? Are you trying to tell me something?"  
  
"It looks like you."  
  
"That is not me." And I get an urge to tickle her. It's not one that I can resist and I roll over and do so.  
  
Her laughter fills the air and for those few moments, the world and everything in it is perfect.  
  
"Take it back!" I feel fifteen again. Who does this when they are in their thirties? Well, me of course. I don't know how I ever gave this up.  
  
I'm propped up on my elbows, looking at her smiling goofily. "I'm glad that we did this."  
  
"Me too. I'll have one less regret."  
  
I look at her, flushed with happiness, eyes bright with laughter. "I don't have any."  
  
TBC~ 


	10. This Close to Losing

10.  
  
And afterwards, we come home and sit on the couch watching some movie. Don't ask me to tell you which movie it was. I can't tell you. I am too busy watching her.  
  
She lays in my arms, leaning on my chest, legs stretched out and over mine, my arms around her. She smiles softly at the screen, that kind of smile that you smile when you are happy and just can't stop yourself. The kind where you don't even realize you are smiling until someone points it out.  
  
I am not a stranger to that kind of smile. I smile like that every time I look at her. The man on the screen has said something particularly romantic and she lets out a huge sigh and completely melts into me. She tilts her head up and smiles. "Wasn't that beautiful?"  
  
I nod and grin at her and lay my chin on top of her head. I wish we could stay like this forever; if I could I would just freeze time right now and spend my eternity entangled with Sydney Bristow.  
  
The phone rings. Sydney gives me a look but complacently extricates herself from my grasp and hands me the phone.  
  
"Vaughn."  
  
"Michael Vaughn, what the hell do you think you are doing?"  
  
I nearly jump out of my skin I'm suddenly so scared. "Jack. . . er Agent Bristow. What am I doing?"  
  
"How dare you take her out of the hospital? Don't you realize that you have taken her out of the best hospital in the country? I realize that you two are engaged and I accept that but do not take liberties. I am still her father and you would do well to remember that."  
  
I try to talk but there are no words. Only weird sounds coming out. Strangled noises that sound like "Aghu-dku-kfno-bleh". Thankfully Sydney takes the phone from my hand before my mind makes up an entirely new language.  
  
"Dad, leave him alone. I practically forced him to do this. I'm not getting any better in that place. I feel like I'm slowly choking. I want to do this. Please just let me have my happiness. Please, daddy."  
  
Jack says something.  
  
"I know what I'm doing. I promise. And Vaughn is experienced in the looking- out-for-me department. I swear; he even made me promise to come back the minute something went wrong. I'm fine. I feel better than I have the past year."  
  
There are a few more lines of conversation. "Okay, I love you too. I'll see you soon. Thanks for trusting my decision daddy; yes I'll keep him in line. Okay. Okay."  
  
She smiles and hangs up. "You've just got to know how to handle him," she says with a smirk.  
  
I take her back into my arms. "The only person I'm interested in knowing how to handle is you."  
  
She laughs and kisses me.  
  
And the world is beautiful again.  
  
It's amazing how easy things have become between us. We truly love each other. We kiss each other any time we want. And it's all one smooth, easy road. So far.  
  
She's rubbing her fingers over my hands. "Why aren't you paying attention to the movie?"  
  
"I should think that the answer is obvious." My eyes are stuck to her. The pieces are finally coming together. I am finally holding the right person.  
  
"Shhh," she whispers and places a hand on my cheek, pointing my face towards the screen. "Watch the movie."  
  
I smile and listen to her. It's enough that she's lying next to me.  
  
~:~  
  
The movie is over and I have to admit that it was romantic. I would've kissed Sydney forever if she hadn't been so curious about how it ended. She got up and started cleaning up, moving aside papers and bringing out cookies.  
  
"Sydney, what are you doing?"  
  
"Cleaning up."  
  
"You really don't have to do that Syd, I don't care about the house."  
  
"Yes I do. And I care. My father's coming over."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, he invited himself and I didn't want to fight. And I want him to see how happy I am with you. How energized you make me feel." She gives me a small smile and I remember that she is sick. Everything isn't perfect. Nothing is.  
  
"Okay." I walk over to her and we hug each other, standing still for a couple minutes before she goes back to the kitchen.  
  
And that is how every minute feels. Every second is slow, full of meaning, full of the knowledge that it could be the last. So they are not wasted talking or fighting. Most of it is just making sure that we are content being with each other.  
  
It's like that boy who took a vow of silence for a year so that he could fully understand the beauty of everything around him. That's how I feel about Sydney. Except her beauty is staring me right in the face and I couldn't miss it if I tried. I don't need to take a vow of silence; all my senses are already overwhelmed by the sight, sound, and feel of her.  
  
And then Jack is at the door.  
  
The doorbell rings and Sydney answers.  
  
"Hello Sydney," he says. And despite his formal words, he manages to sound paternal and. . . well, almost sweet.  
  
"Hi Dad." Her smile is huge and I can tell that it has not escaped his notice. He looks at me, a question in his eyes.  
  
"Does he really make you this happy? I haven't heard you speak so much in a day for the past year. Especially that phone call."  
  
She kissed his cheek. "He does. He really really does. I have never been happier, I want you to know that."  
  
Jack hugs her. "All right. I know now." And he thanks me with his eyes; and I get the message. How could I not? He already told me today.  
  
This day has felt like ten thousand years. Somehow, all the meaning of my life has managed to be brought together in one day. I know which day I will live over if I ever get the chance.  
  
Jack is staying with us for a few weeks. Sydney doesn't mind so I don't either. He is still working for SD-6 but he's taking a few weeks off for vacation and Sloane has been more lenient that he has ever been.  
  
~:~  
  
I'm sleeping. That warm, comfortable blackness is surrounding me and I feel completely safe knowing that I could wake up at any moment and find Sydney in my arms. I haven't slept this well for years. I can smell Sydney from here. I can hear her soft breathing and I can feel her hand lying on my chest.  
  
So this is utter happiness.  
  
I'm sleeping. Totally resting and basking in the glory that is her. Everything is inky around me, inky black, showing a smoothness that never seems to be present in life.  
  
In my sleep, I slightly tighten my grasp on her, making sure that she is real and not a mere figment of my imagination. After all that has happened today, I could die. I would die if I woke to empty arms.  
  
The best day of my life. I see her, I propose, she accepts, we kiss, I sleep. Sleep.  
  
:::::  
  
"Sydney, I love you so much."  
  
"Don't say that to me anymore Vaughn."  
  
"What? Why not?"  
  
"Because you are only hurting yourself when you say it. And I know that I can't do anything about it. So every time you say it, it just makes me remember everything I'm leaving behind and everything that you want that you can't have."  
  
"Sydney, what are you saying?" I am completely bewildered by her words. She said she loved me. She does love me. Did love me. How can she change so much so soon? How can she have a face of stone when she looks at me when I can't hide any emotion from her?  
  
"I'm saying that this isn't happening. I'm not even here. I'm gone already. Don't you see? I'm gone. And you can't find me."  
  
And then she really starts to disappear, so slowly that I almost can't tell whether she is or if it is just a figment of my imagination. But when I start to see the sky behind her shine through, that's when I know she is truly leaving me.  
  
And it hurts. "Don't go Syd," I reach out my hand but it passes through her. Completely.  
  
"Didn't I tell you? Didn't I tell you that this was going to hurt you? Didn't I tell you to leave? Didn't I tell you not to love me?" She is trying to remain strong but she begins to cry.  
  
"You're crying."  
  
"No I'm not. You're crying."  
  
And I am. I am crying and the hurt is flashing through my body like flashes of lightning.  
  
"You're crying and I'm dying. That's the difference. I'm already dead. Gone. You can't see me anymore."  
  
She's gone. She is truly gone. "No," I whisper. But there is no one in front of me. The sun is shining and the sky is blue, almost taunting me. I didn't think life could go on without Sydney. How can everything remain beautiful once she is gone? "No. You're not gone."  
  
But she is.  
  
She really is.  
  
I'm talking to no one. I'm talking to myself.  
  
:::  
  
I open my eyes, shock and fright filling my senses and blinding me. I move my arm, hopping with all my heart that I will come in contact with a warm body, that I will find Sydney by my side.  
  
When I do, I feel as if the world is being lifted off my shoulders. All the fear leaves, leaving me only with an armful of Sydney. I sigh.  
  
"Don't worry. I'm still here," she whispers. How is it possible that she knows exactly what I'm feeling? That she knows exactly what I need her to say?  
  
"Thank God. Thank you. I need you with me," I mumble into her hair. And I see her expression falter and I know that she is thinking about when she won't be able to be with me anymore even though I will need her still. Maybe even more than ever.  
  
But she says nothing. She merely keeps her arms around me and lets me comfort myself with her presence. She knows me.  
  
"I'm so glad you're here."  
  
She smiles at me, bringing sunlight back into the room. "I'm so glad I'm here too."  
  
TBC  
  
~ review review review  
  
~review review review  
  
~And just in case you missed the other six: review review review  
  
~Merry Christmas/ Happy Winter + other holidays to you guys~  
  
~Jenn 


	11. Sunset

11.  
  
The sand feels really good under our feet. It's almost sunset so it isn't hot. Just cool. And dry. . . but not too dry. Perfect sand. We're just walking on the beach, watching the waves roll in the distance and letting the wind blowing us in new directions.  
  
Our hands are clasped together and we're just walking. And everything is smooth and calm and nothing is weird between us. There's silence but it's easy. Comfortable. We know how we feel about each other and there's no strain. No need to talk. Just to be.  
  
I smile at her. Her hair is blowing in the wind, going absolutely crazy and flying into her face. I softly brush it away, silently gasping as it comes into view. I find myself doing that a lot lately. Gasping at the sight of her. The sound of her, the smell. She's just too amazing not to acknowledge.  
  
"Michael," Her voice brings me to realization.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Thank you."  
  
And that's our conversation. I close my eyes and feel the breeze rushing past me and I pull Sydney a little close. I feel her slip an arm around my waist and I smile.  
  
"Your welcome."  
  
"So, we've done the picnic in the park and the walks on the beach. What's next on our to-do list?"  
  
"So now it's a list? I thought we were doing what we wanted to do."  
  
"Not all lists are bad. They keep life organized."  
  
"All right. Well, I was thinking. . ." I pulled my bag from her shoulders.  
  
She looks at me, a question in her eyes. "What was I carrying anyway?"  
  
"You'll see. You know, I don't even understand why you wanted to carry it."  
  
" I was hoping that if you couldn't tell me what it was, I would be able to guess. You know. Bigger than a bread box or something." She smiled at me.  
  
"I see. How devious of you."  
  
"Well I did use to be a spy."  
  
"Oh really now?"  
  
"Yes. Really. But then they fired me because I couldn't do anything anymore." I look at her. I don't know why she is saying this. But I know that she's feeling sad now. She does that from time to time. Misses what she used to be. And then she fails to recognize what she is now.  
  
I pull out the blanket.  
  
"We're sleeping on the beach?"  
  
"No. We're watching the sunset."  
  
She sits on the blanket and I set up "camp". There's wood and branches all over this beach and it's high time that we used them for something. So I start a little fire and everything's warm and the waters boiling and there's pointy sticks for marshmallows and there's Sydney on the blanket so I'm happy. But when I turn to her, I see that she isn't.  
  
I sit down next to her, slipping an arm around her shoulders.  
  
"I used to be amazing. I know that I'm bragging or exaggerating but looking at what I am now and then thinking back. . ." A gentle breeze blew a strand of hair into her face. "I was amazing then and I didn't even know it. I was never thankful. I just blamed everything. I was smart and- and functional and I took it for granted."  
  
She closed her eyes, trying to stop me from seeing the pain. "And those last six months, Vaughn. I knew I loved you and that you loved me back and I was thankful then. But it was already too late. You were my guardian angel. I loved you so much. I still love you now but then. . . it was still so magical. Almost impossible that we could love each other and be so perfect. So ironic that we had all those restrictions stopping us."  
  
I kiss her forehead, not knowing how else to make her feel better. "Were you so much happier then?"  
  
She pauses. "No. I was better then but I wasn't happier. I didn't have you. But see, I'm blaming myself for not being thankful. But I haven't changed. Things could be worse. I might still be in that hospital. I could be alone. I could be dead already. But I'm not. I'm on a blanket, toasting marshmallows, waiting for hot cocoa and watching the sun set with the love of my life. And for that I'm thankful." She smiles. Suddenly peaceful.  
  
"Are you okay, Syd?"  
  
"Yeah. Just tired."  
  
"Don't get too tired. Because after we get married, there will still be that garden to plant you know."  
  
She smiles, still keeping her eyes closed. I wrap the blanket around her as the breeze picks up.  
  
"Our wedding. Doesn't that sound marvelous?"  
  
"Beautiful."  
  
"Let's have a small wedding. On the beach. Here. And we'll only invite your family, my father, and Will and Francie and Weiss. Let's make it small. And the wind could blow just like this and my dress will be floating everywhere."  
  
I laugh. "Okay, I'll write a letter to the wind god tonight." And I turn serious again. "You can have whatever you want."  
  
"I wish I could freeze time. Wouldn't this be a great moment to freeze?"  
  
"Mmhmm," I say, handing her her hot chocolate.  
  
"Look, it's setting."  
  
The sky is every single color imaginable. Shot with blues and pinks and oranges and purples and even some green.  
  
"Oh Michael, it's so beautiful."  
  
"Almost as beautiful as you."  
  
"I'm not beautiful. Not anymore."  
  
I look at her. "I don't understand why you feel so defeated. I thought you wanted to live out your life being happy?"  
  
Sydney closed her eyes. "I know. I do. But I just. . . I can't help it. I'm just telling you the truth. Forget I said that. Let's just enjoy this. I'm ruining everything." And tears start to fall out of her eyes.  
  
"Oh honey, don't say that. You're not ruining anything. You are so beautiful, can't you see it? You can never be ugly. Not to me or anyone. This is all for you. For us."  
  
She looked at me, eyes brimming. "You make me beautiful Michael. Without you, I don't even know where I would be."  
  
She brings her arms around me and hugs me with a strength I didn't know she possessed. "I love you, you know. No matter what I say or do, I will always love you more than anything."  
  
I smile and hug her back as the last rays of sun die down. "I love you too."  
  
Review~  
  
Jenn  
  
I'm estimating that there will be 3 or 4 chapters left so. . . yeah. 


	12. In the Rain

With My Dying Breath

12.

I closed my eyes and immediately darkness came over me, filling everything with it's smooth blackness; clogging up every crack of light in sight.

I immediately hold Sydney a little tighter to me so that I know she is there. The dream is coming again.

It always comes now; it is inevitable. As soon as I close my eyes, it attacks my senses until I am dead with fear and I open my eyes to hope again.

I can hear Jack snoring in the room next door and I can feel Sydney's shallow breaths on my neck but those sensations are fading fast and I start to sink into sleep and the dream catches me once more.

_"Don't look back Vaughn. Just keep on going but whatever it is, don't look back."_

_I look at her angelic face but can barely register her words._

_"Are you coming with me?"_

_"Why would I go with you?"_

_"Because you promised you would. You said that you would be by my side forever."_

_I hold out my hand and wait for her to place her own in it so that we can walk back home and sit on the beach once more._

_But the hand never comes._

_"Sydney?"_

_She looks at me and I see sudden emotion flit across her face before disappearing as she strengthens her resolve. But I don't understand why she feels she has to hide her feelings from me._

_"Forever turned out to be a lot shorter than we thought it would be."_

_My blood turns to ice at those words._

_"What are you saying? Sydney, come on, let's go."_

_"I can't. There's nowhere left to go."_

_In desperation, I grab her hand in mine, not willing to let her get away that easily. "What are you talking about? There are a million things left to see and a billion things left to do."_

_"For you. Not with me. There's no more time."_

_Her hand slips away but I grasp it again before it falls to her side. _

_"We have all the time in the world."_

_She looks at me kindly, with a wisdom I can only hope to one day have lighting up her features._

_"Yes you do."_

_"We. We do."_

_For a second I think I see tears in her eyes but I must be mistaken because now they are dry. She brings my face down to hers and kisses my forehead lightly._

_"Go on now. Don't look back remember."_

_And I feel dazed as I listen and do as she tells me to do._

_But then I feel the loneliness; the pangs of sharp regret running through my body make me turn back._

_But it's gone. Everything's black and there is nothing anywhere. _

_I have truly lost her._

My eyes burst open and I can feel the layer of sweat that envelopes my body.

The same sweat I have been covered with for the past month.

Ever since Sydney came home.

I suppose that, in a way, it's fair. The days with her are so perfect that there has to be some retribution. So in payment of my days, I give up my nights to fear and death and loss.

But I suppose that this way is better than living with fear and loss and dreaming about some far off fulfillment.

I check to make sure Sydney is still lying next to me; it's the same thing I do every night.

I sigh, finally feeling the dream releasing its hold on me.

But then I freeze.

And stare at the woman lying next to me.

Why? Why am I doing this?

Because she is lying so horribly still.

I lay a gentle hand on her throat and panic until I detect a low pulse. It's barely there and I know now that my dreams have prepared me for nothing.

Instead, they have merely become reality.

Full of fear, I find myself walking into the living room and calling an ambulance. 

It's as if my body is on auto-pilot. I have no idea how to function anymore yet I am.

~:~

"Jack."

It's barely a whisper but agents are trained to sleep lightly and he is awake in an instant.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He sounds grumpy and, though normally I would have been shaking by now, there is an actual answer to his question.

"Sydney."

His eyes are open immediately and he is as alert as I've ever seen him.

"What happened?"

"She's unconscious with a very low pulse and heartbeat."

I hate how mechanical my words sound.

He briskly walks to our room and I hear sirens in the distance.

He walks out, carrying her in his arms.

"I'll take her," I offer. But he glares at me.

"You will do no such thing."

It's his emotion talking. I'm sure of it. But my emotions speak too and this is the time that they choose to do it.

"I'm her fiance and I will take her to the hospital."

He steps towards me and seemingly towers over me though he is shorter than I am. And for the first time, I see the tears glistening in his eyes and the worry lines deepening in his forehead.

"She's my daughter. Before anything else, she's my daughter. And I wasn't the one who took her out of the hospital. You can follow us in your car but I will be the one in the ambulance holding her hand. Because I am her father and she needs me."

He makes sense and I remember a time when I felt sorry for him; he was losing his daughter in every way possible. Even to me. But now I had something to lose too.

"And I don't? I have great need for your daughter Jack, and I can't just let her go."

"I know you love her Agent Vaughn, and I know she loves you. But this is not your decision to make. And I swear that if you try one more time to take her from me, I will gut you." 

The sirens are closer now and he opens the door and the stretcher comes.

I watch him lay his daughter so gently on the stretcher and I feel my heart breaking. 

She is absolutely limp and she's all by herself. White as the sheet covering her. She's being hoisted into the truck and Jack's climbing into it.

To be with her.

And I realize that it's raining. That the heavens must be crying for Sydney Bristow because, for some reason, I can't squeeze out a tear. I am frozen to the asphalt, watching as everything moves in slow motion.

I see Jack turn towards me and I see the sorrow in his face and the silent apology that he will never actually say.

There is a mutual understanding as the doors close.

And with the bang of the closing doors, the world resumes its pace. I am drenched; my sorrow has burst, and I am left alone crying in the middle of the street.

TBC~

Review! Seriously... You guys have no idea how insecure i get when i get little or no feedback.

So humor me.

-Jenn 


	13. To Enter Heaven

With My Dying Breath

Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. It really means a lot. There is going to be two more chapters (including this one) and then the epilogue and that will mark my first complete multi-chaptered fic. Yay! 

13.

I don't know why I suddenly feel as if I'm paralyzed. But I can't move. Can't even twitch or do anything but feel the tears slide smoothly down my cheeks.

I feel the raindrops hitting me and soaking through my clothes, chilling me to the very bone. I watch as the blinking red lights grow smaller and smaller until they disappear around the corner.

And it is then that I am able to move. The fear of seeing her leaving is releasing me from its hold and now I can move but I can barely think. I run back into the house, banging my hip painfully against the counter and i fumble for the keys that are lying somewhere under all the folders and papers cluttering the desk.

Wincing in pain, I turn to get a jacket but then turn back. There's no time to get a jacket.

I'm not even cold anymore.

I can feel my entire body coursing with adrenaline; I can feel it surging through my system even as I feel my face heat up from fear. 

My hands are shaking as they find their place on the steering wheel and I try looking straight ahead as I start the ignition and move the car forward but my vision is blurry anyway.

I rub my sleeve quickly across my eyes as I drive down the street.

The night is dark and the building that are whirring past me all look the same to my tired eyes. Sydney has to make it. This has to be some sort of false call. 

She can't leave. The world won't be able to go on without her. And even if it can, it will be bleak. She's the only one capable of brining color wherever she goes.

I know I'm exaggerating but there is a kernel of truth to my thoughts. She truly is the light of my life. And if she leaves me, I know that I'll die inside.

The hospital is only five minutes away and I can still hear the sound of the siren ringing in my ears.

~:~

I know how awful I must look; how haggard I must appear to anyone unlucky enough to look at me. "Please. Tell me where I can find Sydney Bristow."

The nurse doesn't even look up at me. "Family only."

"She's the only one important to me. Please. I'm her fiance."

She finally looks at me, sees the pain in my face. And her voice lowers a notch, showing a little sympathy for my pain. "She's undergoing treatment right now."

She looks down at the file spread on her table. "Are you Michael Vaughn?"

Dumbly I nod, my eyes stuck to her face, trying to read my mind.

"Are you aware of the damage that you have caused by removing her from the hospital?"

Her voice has changed back; it's hostile again. But I can't seem to register her words and i just shake my head. "No. No, she is more alive than she has been these two years. She was fine, absolutely FINE until tonight. She... she's beautiful."

"It's a thing called adrenaline Mr. Vaughn. Sometimes staying in the same dreary environment gets people down. But this is a good hospital and we give our patients good treatment. By removing Ms. Bristow from our care, you have already eliminated months of her life."

"How can you say that? She just came in a few minutes ago! You're not right. That is not right. You can't have figured all that out already."

The nurse hesitated. "Mr. Vaughn, there has been a reason Jack Bristow has been staying with you."

My eyes flit to her nametag. Andrea Bosen. How did she know everything? Was she some sort of superior nurse or something? 

And as I peer into her face, I remember her. The nurse that was in the room when Sydney decided to leave.

"Ms. Bosen, I'm not entirely sure what you're saying to me right now but I don't care. I only want to know one thing and that is where my fiancé is."

"You can't see her now."

I feel rage building up in my body and I start taking deep breaths to calm myself down. "How long before I can see her?"

"Not tonight."

I stare at her incredulously. Does she really think that she can let me hang in this state of not-knowing for a whole night? Doesn't she know that I'll die?

So there is one choice. I nod and walk in the direction of the bathroom but steer off to the elevators instead.

As an after thought, I step into the supply closet three doors down to grab an orderly's outfit.

~:~

I don't know which door it is but I don't care. I know it's in here somewhere. And I have to do something. As long as I'm doing something, I won't go crazy.

I work my way down the hallway, picking the locks more efficiently than I have ever done. Desperation does that.

Here.

The room is dark but that is a problem with an easy solution. Turning on the lights, I survey the file cabinets on each wall. 

B

Bri

Bristow.

Bristow, Sydney.

I pick out her file and scan the contents of the documents, trying to find a room number, a floor, anything that can help me.

But my blood freezes as I read the words jumping out at me.

_After testing the patient's blood sample, taken and given on the 14th of January, it was found that... cells have been depleted... 30%, estimated time 3 months... blood samply given on the 26th... rapid deterioration... no outwards symptoms but internal organs and blood flow severly disrupted... 60% of needed cells... areas of contamination growing... Plan retraction on the 14th for immediate care..._

_ _

It was the 10th. The doctors had estimated 3 months. But that had been in January.

Numbers change

February 10, 2002. Syd... What will this date mean to us? Will there still be an us tomorrow? 

I feel the tears creeping upwards again but I stop them. Shaking my head to clear my mind, I skip over the document and the graphs until I find a chart.

Room 342.

Hastily I close the folder, trying to forget everything I have just seen, and walk out the door.

~:~

For the first time in a month, it looks as if she is paler than the sheets.

Jack is standing beside her bed, looking at his daughter. I feel like I'm intruding on some moment, like some freak looking through the window. I step back. I'm willing to give him his time. She's not just mine.

I hear his voice. "Sydney, what are you doing? You don't have to be in so much pain." I hear the sorrow in his voice as he fights to say the things that he is thinking.

"Sweetie, I love you but you don't have to stay. It's killing me to see how hurt you are. It's okay for you to let go."

There's a pause and I feel almost guilty for telling Sydney to live for me. Jack's right in a way. She shouldn't have to suffer anymore.

But I'm selfish. I want her to stay.

"What's stopping you? Why is it so hard for you to let go? Honey, are you waiting for something? Someone?" Jack sighs and looks up and sees me.

I back away from the door, scared of what I might do or say. Jack wants Sydney to die. He can't stand to see her suffering. This isn't fair. Can't she just live happily ever after? Can't she just stay forever with me. I lean against the wall and wait as I feel the energy leaking out of me. I can wait forever now that I know where she is.

But the door opens and he comes out. 

"Go. She's waiting for you." That's the only thing he says and right before he turns around, I see the tear fall from his eye.

"Thank you."

There is now an unspoken agreement between us. He has, for the first time, truly accepted me and I walk through the door and into her room.

~:~

Walking into the room, I think she's sleeping. Lying there so peacefully with her eyes closed, her lashes falling gently to her face, I hope that she is.

But then I see the flash of pain shoot through her face and the fine layer of sweat that shines in the light.

I can empathize with Jack. It hurts to see her like this.

She cries out a little and bites her lip to stop herself. And I realize why she is closing her eyes. She doesn't want me to see her tears.

Another wave of pain overcomes her and leaves her breathless and almost panting; her chest heaving as her hands clench the sheets, crumpling them in her still powerful grasp.

I place my hand on hers and see her crack open an eye. It's filled with tears and pain and she's moving her mouth but there are no words. "Syd."

She opens both eyes and looks at me, her gaze strong even as two perfect tears fall from them. 

"Syd, it's okay. I was selfish to make you stay. You can let go."

But I don't mean it. And she knows I don't mean it. And she's never lost before. She doesn't know how. She can't give up. Not now.

She shakes her head slightly before wincing again. 

I get up; knowing that this is the time she usually sends me away. But her hand turns over and grabs mine in hers. 

She wants me to stay.

I'm so grateful that she's letting me stay. "I'm right here." 

She squeezes my hand painfully tight. But it doesn't matter. She can do anything she wants to me and it won't hurt as much as the look on her face.

Her words come out in gasps. "They... stopped trying."  
  
"No. No they didn't. Nobody gave up."  
  
"There's no- nothing they can do anymore... too late."  
  
I shake my head, feeling dizzy as my vision gets blurry again. "It's not too late."  
  
She smiles wanly. "Vaughn, you don't think... I'm not going to make it you know."  
  
"Yes you are. You can make it through anything."  
  
She gasps for breath. "Not this. Not even I.... No- I can't."  
  
"WE can. I'm right here. Sydney, please. I'm right here. Just hold on."  
  
She nods. "How long?"  
  
I don't have an answer. "I don't know."  
  
  


"Vaughn... Michael, it hurts."

I bend down and kiss her forehead. "I know baby, I know."

She opens her eyes again. "Michael, I love you."

My tear falls on her nose. "I know."

"I just wanted... wanted to make sure. You love me too right?"

"Yeah."

"Then I really don't need anything else do I?"

I don't like where this conversation is headed. "Don't leave me. Please Sydney, please don't leave me. Please. I'll do anything. Please just stay." I kiss her tears away, kiss the my teardrop from her nose, kiss her hand and I drop to the floor on my knees.

She holds my head to her chest as I sob. This is the wrong way. I'm supposed to hold her. But I can't and I'm depending on her for strength again. And amazingly, she gives it to me.

"Vaughn... I can try to stay. But I would only bring you down."

I shake my head. "Don't even say that. The only place you could ever bring me is up."

She clenches her teeth as another wave hits. 

"Michael..."

I hold her hands in mine, feeling the sweat break out on her hands and on her face and chest, covering her with a fine sheen.

I know I should let her go.

And she knows I know. 

"Michael, in the movies, this is usually the time... the time where the woman ... tells... tells the man to promise to love someone else."

I start to speak but she covers my mouth with her hand.

"...but I'm too selfish... I'm not going to stop you from loving someone else... But I don't want you to forget me right away."

She laughs at herself but it turns into a sob. "I'm... I'm so jealous that you'll love someone more than you love me. I'm sorry I'm so jealous. I do want you to be happy."

This time I stop her. "Syd, you have absolutely NOTHING to worry about. What you are... no one else could even compare. No one."

And I find the strength in me to give her comfort and this time, I'm the one cradling her to my chest.

And I realize how she was able to give me strength when she had none of her own. It wasn't strength.

It was love.

And that source is not depletable. There is no limit.

And when I come to that realization, I look back down at her, ready to tell her that she can go.

But I guess she knew that already because her eyes are closed.

And even though I knew she would leave me, I feel the anguish fill my throat and pour out of my mouth as realization hits me hard in the heart until I'm left flailing in darkness and shadow.

The love of my life is gone. And I am alone.

_I would rather roam the earth  
  
Forever by your side as a ghost  
  
Than enter Heaven _

_ _

_Without You___

TBC...


	14. Fish in the Sea

With My Dying Breath

_Thanks to all who read and reviewed this story; I truly hope that you enjoyed it because I loved writing it (not for the Death but for the experience of writing such emotion). _

_This is for all of you who need a good cry~ It's good for you._

**Final Chapter**

"Michael, in the movies, this is usually the time... the time where the woman ... tells... tells the man to promise to love someone else."

I start to speak but she covers my mouth with her hand.

"...but I'm too selfish... I'm not going to stop you from loving someone else... But I don't want you to forget me right away."

She laughs at herself but it turns into a sob. "I'm... I'm so jealous that you'll love someone more than you love me. I'm sorry I'm so jealous. I do want you to be happy."

This time I stop her. "Syd, you have absolutely NOTHING to worry about. What you are... no one else could even compare. No one."

And I find the strength in me to give her comfort and this time, I'm the one cradling her to my chest.

And I realize how she was able to give me strength when she had none of her own. It wasn't strength.

It was love.

And that source is not depletable. There is no end.

And when I come to that realization, I look back down at her, ready to tell her that she can go.

But I guess she knew that already because her eyes are closed.

  
And even though I knew she would leave me, I feel the anguish fill my throat and pour out of my mouth as realization hits me hard in the heart until I'm left flailing in darkness and shadow.

The love of my life is gone. And I am alone.

  
  


_I would rather roam the world_

_Forever as a ghost_

_Than enter Heaven_

_Without You_

_~:~_****

I look out at the sea of faces looking up at me as I start to speak. My whole face feels limp and I'm not sure if I can find the strength to say these words.

They said that ten to fifteen minutes is a good amount to eulogize. Ten to fifteen minutes? How can I sum up everything that Sydney Bristow was, is, and should have been to me in that period of time? 

  
What will be will be. So I start slow.  
  


"I loved Sydney Bristow for so long and with such intensity that I can't even remember life without her. She was so full of life and this magical sort of energy that it is amazing to me that I was the one she chose to experience it with her. 

"She truly did make me a better person and I consider myself lucky to have had her with me for as long as I have." I see the tears falling down their faces but none of them know.

None of them truly know how much it hurts to bury your fiancé. Ironic that she and I are the only ones in this crowd to have done it.

"Some of you don't know who I am. My name is Michael Vaughn and Sydney Bristow was my fiancé."

_Michael, why are you so good to me?_

_I love you Sydney, trust me when I say that the only place you could bring me is up._

There is a general shock running through their faces because they didn't know. How could they?

"You know, I read that cancer patients change, that they look like completely different people after a year or so. Sydney was different because she always remained beautiful. She would keep pictures of people she loved at her bedside table and..."

I don't know where I'm going with this. I feel so lost.

_The breeze feels wonderful Michael._

_Sydney, come here and sit down before you catch a cold._

_I don't want to sit down, You stand up and join me._

_And I did, standing up behind her, enfolding her small frame in my arms, smelling the sweet scent that belonged to only her as the wind blew it past my senses._

"I could tell all of you that she was daring and beautiful and smart and funny but you already knew that. I don't really know exactly what I'm trying to do now... I think I'm trying to find words that would describe her essence with such perfection that all of you would knew immediately that it was her. But it's impossible.

"She's too many things. Was. She's frail but she's so strong. Was so strong, I mean." God, I can't say anything right.

_Don't tickle me Michael, I mean it, if you come any closer I'll kick your ass. And I can do it too._

_I know. But I'm tickling you anyway._

"And there are moments when you think that you and she are the only people left on the entire world because of the attention she gives to you,"

_Sydney, I'm not going to dance with you in the middle of the street! I don't care what song it is, it doesn't call for public humiliation._

_Please Vaughn? Forget the people and focus on me. Don't you want to dance with me? _

_Yeah. I do._

"And the thing that never ceased to amaze me was how she made me want to be a better person. And how I always felt fuller when I was with her."

I hunch over myself for a second, feeling the tears come down my face. And despite myself, the silent whisper becomes amplified and everyone hears what I say next. "_I love you Sydney, please don't leave me."_

And my throat closes up and I can't speak anymore.

~:~

The moon is shining on the water is almost perfect, the little speckles of light rest on the tops of the waves so comfortably and- and-

I myself am resting on the rail of the pier, warding myself of the too many memories of her sickness that await me at home. 

Here I remember the good times, remember her when we were both healthy and active and so far engaged in forbidden love.

I smile despite myself but it doesn't last for long; every memory I have of Sydney Bristow is only followed by the horrific realization that she is no longer with me. 

The water doesn't seem to shine to brightly anymore.

It is a soap opera after all isn't it? Man loves Woman. Woman loves Man. Woman dies and leaves Man all alone.

_There may be more fish in the sea Syd but this one still loves you with all his heart._

**The end.**

**review~ **


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